by Sophie Blue
“No problem. Sleep well, Mia.” Moving back into the hallway, I turn to face her once more.
“Have you seen the size of this bed? I’m going to hibernate until summer!” She laughs, and it lights up her face. Chuckling, I close the door to her room, making my way to my own with a smile firmly on my face.
Chapter 4
Mia
Shuffling into the kitchen in last night’s clothes, I spot him immediately. Wearing another black suit with a white shirt, he’s a sight to behold.
“Morning, did you sleep well?” he asks as I make my way to the dining table where he’s sitting with a mug of coffee and some toast.
“Yes, thank you, like a baby. Thank you again for letting me stay the night. I appreciate it. If I can have the address, I'll call a taxi and get out of your way.”
“Nonsense, sit. Join me for breakfast,” he insists, pointing to the seat beside him and motioning to the plate of toast in the centre of the table. A selection of jams and some butter is also laid out and I smile.
Sitting down at the large mahogany dining table, he offers me some coffee from a cafetière. I smile and nod, adding milk once he has poured it for me.
“So how long have you lived at the motel?” he asks, and I cringe, remembering his reaction when he saw where I was living. Granted, it doesn’t look like much on the outside, but it keeps a roof over my head and for that I’m grateful.
“About six months,” I admit, taking a sip of my coffee and sighing in bliss. Real coffee. Is there anything better?
“Why?” Curiosity is shining in his eyes when I look up at him.
“The rent at my flat went up, I couldn't afford it and there was nowhere near to where I work that I could afford. It's only temporary. Until I sort something out,” I defend, feeling like I'm being judged.
“And you work at that dive bar from last night?”
“Look, if you're just going to scold me for my poor life choices...” I move to stand, angry at the nerve of this man. He may have saved me last night, but he has no right to judge me. I’m a grown woman, for crying out loud!
“Sit down, Mia. I'm not scolding you. I'm trying to understand why you're in your current predicament. You're an attractive woman. You saw what happened when you attempted to walk home last night. The world is full of nasty people.”
“I am well aware! Unfortunately the world is run by money; and if you don't have it, you're controlled by it. I need money so I work at the bar.” Sighing, I sit back in my seat and bring my cup of coffee back to my lips.
“I have a proposition for you.” My outrage must show on my face because he chuckles, then quickly adds, “Not that kind of proposition. I need a new housekeeper. Someone to do the cooking, cleaning, that sort of thing. I haven't had time to look into hiring one. But here you are. If you take the job, you’ll be welcome to stay here in the guest room.”
“You want to hire me?” I ask in shock. This sounds too good to be true. Did I fall and hit my head on my walk home last night? Am I dreaming?
“Yes. I thought we could help each other out. You need a place to stay and a better paid job, I need a housekeeper. I'd pay you a good salary. You can pick your hours, and the guest room is yours for no charge. Call it an employment perk.” He smiles, trying to gauge my reaction.
“Are you serious? Like, is this real?” I gape. He chuckles and smiles at me. He has perfect teeth. That may be a weird thing to notice, but I’m mesmerized by his pearly white smile.
“Yes. It is. I will have a contract drawn up so you can see it is all legit. You can start as soon as you want, and we can move you in today, if you choose to accept the position.”
“So I'd be in charge of cooking your meals and cleaning the penthouse?” I clarify, taking another sip of coffee and trying to figure out the catch. If something seems too good to be true, it usually is.
“Yes, I'll let you know in advance what meals are needed. I'm usually in the office for lunch so no need for that during the week. I'd also need you to do the food shopping. Online or in-store. Whichever you prefer. Ironing, washing. I think that's about it. General housekeeping,” he confirms, pouring himself another coffee and looking at me to assess my reaction.
“Does the hotel not employ staff to clean for you?” I ask, confused. Surely as the owner of one of the best hotels in the country, he has a huge staff to undertake all of these tasks.
“I don't allow any staff up here. This is my private space and I like to consider it separate from the hotel,” he explains and I nod in understanding. I wouldn’t want random people rummaging through my things either.
“Ok, I understand. I don't know how much notice I have to give my boss, Tom. But I'd love to work for you.” I say, excited by this unexpected turn of events. Even if there is a catch, it has to be better than what I’m doing at the moment.
“Leave your boss to me. Is there anything you need from the bar?” he asks, taking a sip from his cup.
“No, I don't keep anything there,” I admit, biting into my slice of toast. I never usually eat breakfast so this is a treat!
“Ok. Are you happy to start Monday? We can get your things from the motel today and you can get yourself settled in over the weekend.”
“That would be amazing. Thank you so much, Mr. Carrington. I really appreciate you giving me this opportunity.”
He waves it off, “Not at all. Like I said, you'll be doing me a favour. And please, call me Jackson.”
Chapter 5
Jackson
After having spoken to her sorry excuse for a boss earlier, I got her released from her contract, if you can call it that. We’re currently carrying the few possessions she owns into the guest room. Two small suitcases of clothes and a couple of boxes of items is all she had to pack.
Placing the boxes on the floor by the dressing table, I turn to Mia and say, “You’re welcome to decorate this room however you like. It’s your space.”
She smiles up at me and it reaches her eyes, showing off her understated beauty. “Thank you, really. This is crazy, but I am so grateful.”
“Think nothing off it. Like I said, you’re saving me the hassle of endless interviews trying to find someone.” I smile back and turn to leave. “I’ll leave you to unpack, shout if you need anything, I’ll be in my office down the hall.”
“Ok, thank you.” Unzipping a suitcase, she starts to pull out her clothes and sets them on the bed.
Making the short walk down the hall to my office, I enter and shut the door behind me. Thinking back to the last twenty-four hours, I chuckle. From a mundane meeting to having a new roommate, that’s quite a day.
Pouring myself a glass of water, I make my way to my oak desk and take a seat. Firing up my laptop, I sigh as I come back to reality. Far too many emails are waiting for me. That’s what I get for having the audacity to take a Saturday off from being the boss. Rolling my eyes, I get to work answering and deleting emails.
One from one of my partners, Paul, sticks out. He wants to meet tomorrow to discuss a potential site for a new hotel. I fire off a reply and look up when I hear a knock on my office door.
“Come in,” I say, seeing Mia walking in looking apprehensive.
“Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know if you wanted me to make something for dinner?” she asks, playing nervously with the bottom of her t-shirt.
“No, that’s ok.” Checking my watch I see I’ve been in here for a couple of hours. I tend to lose myself to my work. “How about I order us a takeaway? Do you have a preference?”
“I’d kill for a pizza.” She smiles, eyes lighting up at the thought and I wonder when she last had a proper meal. Emptying out her cupboards at the motel, it was mainly noodles and tinned ravioli.
“Pizza it is, pick a topping and I’ll order.”
“I’m not fussy. I just don’t like fish or seafood,” she tells me, and I nod.
“How about pepperoni?”
“Perfect!” She smiles one of her beaming smiles and I sm
ile back.
Making quick work of ordering us some food on the app, I say, “Brilliant, it should be here in thirty minutes. I’ll give you a shout.” Nodding, she makes her way back out of my office and I watch her go. She’s too slender, probably from her lack of proper meals, and her clothes are worn, like she purchased them years ago and hasn’t been able to replace them. It makes me angry that this wonderful woman has been barely living, struggling to get by.
Chapter 6
Mia
Sitting on the insanely large sofa in the living room, I pick up another slice of heavenly pizza and shovel it into my mouth. I can’t remember the last time I ate this well. It is a treat.
“Enjoying that?” Jackson laughs, pouring us both a glass of water.
“Yes, sorry,” I reply in embarrassment, swallowing another greasy but delicious mouthful.
Chuckling, he says, “Don’t apologise. It’s nice to see someone appreciate good food.”
“Good food? I would have thought you’d be more a Michelin starred restaurant sort of man,” I say, looking up at him with a cheeky smile.
“Are you stereotyping me?” he jokes and I feel a bit bad because that is exactly what I am doing.
“Yes, sorry. That was unkind.” He laughs and shakes his head.
“I’m very lucky to lead the life I do, but takeaway pizza will always be a guilty pleasure of mine,” he says, smiling at me as he takes another bite out of his pepperoni filled slice.
“You’re a smart man. Pizza is the food of gods.” I tell him, licking my lips to make sure I don’t have pizza sauce around my mouth.
“Is that so?” He chuckles, taking a drink of his water.
“Mmhmm. Gods and royals, I expect. Decadent and delicious. Who wouldn’t eat it every day, given half the chance?”
Laughing at my admission, he grabs another slice and says, “True. I could live off of this.”
We enjoy a couple more slices in a comfortable silence before I break it.
“So, besides cleaning and cooking, what else am I meant to do with my time?” I ask him, looking around his vast home. It’s like a show home, it doesn’t look lived in at all.
“Whatever you want. So long as it is clean and the odd jobs are done, you’re free to do what you want with your time. I’ll pay you a set salary, regardless of the hours you work.”
“Seriously? That’s crazy. What if it’s spick and span and all I have to do one day is cook and vacuum the floors?”
“Then I will still pay you. It would only need that little work as you’d have kept up with it all,” he says, shrugging.
“OK, thanks.” This will take some getting used to. This job really does sound too good to be true.
“Don’t overthink it, Mia. You’ll earn your salary by cooking, cleaning and putting up with me as a boss and a roommate.” He grins, making me laugh. It doesn’t seem like much of a hardship.
“So what do you do when you’re not working?” I ask, grabbing a potato wedge and sitting back.
“I’m never not working,” he admits on a sigh, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “Being the boss is a lot of responsibility. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of perks, but you have to work hard.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second,” I say. “But do you never take a day off?”
“I haven’t for a long time. Something has always needed my attention, and I’ve had no real reason to take time off,” he admits, closing the now empty pizza box and sitting back.
“That’s sad. You must be exhausted all of the time,” I say, looking up at his tired expression.
“It certainly feels that way sometimes.” He chuckles. “But I do love my job, so I consider myself lucky.”
Smiling, I nod. I get that. It must be wonderfully fulfilling to have a job you love doing. My mother always used to say find a job you love and you’ll never work a day in your life. Though, looking at Jackson, I think it’s obvious he puts the work in.
“I have an early meeting tomorrow so I’m going to turn in,” he says, standing and picking up the empty boxes.
“On a Sunday?” I ask in shock.
“Yep, no rest for the wicked.” He winks and I can feel myself blushing. “Help yourself to whatever you need.”
“Thank you. So very much. You have no idea how much I appreciate this opportunity,” I say in earnest.
“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Mia.” He smiles as he turns and walks down the hall to the master bedroom.
“Goodnight,” I say, watching him walk away. I have no idea how this happened but I feel like things are finally looking up.
Chapter 7
Mia
Jackson was gone by the time I woke up; there was an empty coffee cup in the sink and a crumb-filled plate on the side. Deciding to make myself useful, I unload the dishwasher, going through countless cupboards to figure out where everything goes. Once it’s empty, I put his dirty dishes in it. I get the bread from the bread bin and put a couple of slices of toast in for my breakfast. It feels weird helping myself, but he’s made it clear that I’m meant to.
Buttering a couple of slices, I put the kettle on to make some coffee. Grabbing the milk from the fridge, I add it to my morning coffee and put the milk and butter away.
Making my way to the breakfast bar, I sit and eat. It feels nice to start the day like this. Food in my belly and not worrying about what I need to do or pay. Grabbing my phone from the counter, I check the news. It’s my morning routine, no idea why, but I like to know what is going on in the world. After five minutes of meaninglessly scrolling, I give in to temptation and google Jackson.
Pulling up the first article, I read it.
Jackson Carrington – Self-Made Billionaire
Jackson Carrington is the owner and founder of Carrington’s hotels. With chains all around the world, he quickly became one of the richest men in the country. His hotels are known for being stylish, luxurious and well-kept. One of three brothers, Carrington is a very private man but is often seen at various fundraisers. His ex-girlfriend Leanne Masters was often seen on his arm, though sources say they are no longer an item.
Hearing the door open, I’m quick to exit the article and pick up my coffee. Not sure why I feel guilty, it’s public information. But it is snooping. I see Jackson walking in. Dressed in a dark grey suit with a royal blue tie, he looks every inch the successful businessman that he is.
“Good morning. How was your meeting?” I ask him, taking another bite out of my toast.
He walks to the kettle and puts it on, grabbing himself a mug from the cupboard before turning around to face me.
“Boring, but we got what we needed done, so it wasn’t a complete waste of time,” he replies with a smile. “Did you sleep ok?”
“I slept on a cloud; I don’t think it is possible to not sleep ok,” I joke, rolling my eyes at him. He laughs and I love the sound. So masculine and rough. It makes me smile.
Making himself a coffee, he moves to sit beside me at the breakfast bar. Taking a sip, he looks over at me and asks, “Did you want to pop into town with me today? We can stock up the cupboards and discuss meal options and so on?”
I nod. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“Great, let me change and we can head out if you like?”
“You mean you don’t do everything in a suit and tie?” I tease in mock horror.
“No, you brat,” he chuckles, standing up and taking his coffee with him. “Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be ready.”
Nodding, I get up and load my now empty mug and plate into the dishwasher. It still isn’t full so I don’t bother putting it on just yet. Making my way back to the guest room, I grab a jumper and put some lipstick on to make me look less pale. Checking my reflection in the mirror—I’ll do—I walk back to the main room to wait for Jackson.
With time to spare, I find myself pulling up the internet again to do some more snooping. I search for Leanne Masters. I don’t know why, but I’m curious. Straight a
way my phone is flooded with pictures of a gorgeous blonde woman. She’s stunning. No picture with a hair out of place, or with no make-up on. I can see why Jackson was attracted to her.
Hearing him walking down the hall, I close the internet on my phone and slip it into the pocket of my jeans. Smiling when he comes into view, I say, “You ready?”
“Yep, let me grab my car keys,” he says, reaching into a small cupboard on the wall and picking a set out of the many he has in there.
“No driver today?” I tease.
“No, not today. Sometimes I like to play with my toys.” He chuckles, winking at me as he makes his way to the door. I follow him out and we head to the elevator.
Chapter 8
Jackson
Walking around the supermarket, I remember why I rarely come shopping myself. The aisles are full of people rushing around, everyone is in a hurry. I should have insisted we shop online, but I thought it would be good for Mia to get out.
“What about pasta?” she asks from behind me. “Do you have a preference?”
“No, I’ll eat anything.” I smile at her, as she picks up a couple of bags and puts them in the trolley.
“Anything you’re a particular fan of? Anything I should know if I’m cooking for you?” she asks, and I think.
“I have a slight addiction to peanut butter chocolate even though I don’t like peanut butter on its own, I chain drink coffee, and I only eat cheddar cheese,” I admit to her.
She smiles. “You may be the perfect man.” Her cheeks turn pink as she realises what she just blurted out and it’s endearing as hell.
“I have been told that before,” I joke, turning to go down the sweet aisle. She grabs a few packets of peanut butter filled chocolate and adds them to the trolley, earning a smile from me.
